Take it Easy
by wayward-tiger
Summary: Sam can tell you that an overprotective momma-bear Dean is not the easiest thing to handle. (MPREG)


"Andrew, please get down from that tree. You're gonna fall and crack your head open if you're not careful." Dean warned as he stood at the base of the big oak tree in their back yard, looking up worriedly at his eldest son.

"Like an egg, Mommy?" The small five-year-old chirped from his spot in the loft of branches.

"Yes, just like an egg." Dean nodded tiredly.

"I like eating eggs." Andrew spoke as he bounced from one branch to another; leaves falling to the ground with the shaky movement.

"I like eating eggs, too, but I don't like raising eggs as my children—especially cracked ones! So get down here now before I get your father to help me pull you out of this tree." Dean was pouting with his hands planted firmly on his hips, and his right foot tapping against the dirt ground.

"Help you with what?" Sam asked as he came up behind Dean and surprised him with a gentle pat on the ass.

Dean rolled his eyes before answering, "Help me pull this monkey son of yours out of the tree before I'm stuck raising a dropped omelet." Dean leaned back into Sam's chest and sighed.

"My monkey son? Last I checked, he came out from between your legs." Sam teased Dean with a playful nibble on the neck, "But I think you need to chill a bit, Hon. He's not even a foot away from the ladder."

"Well exactly! We shouldn't provide a ladder for our kids to climb to their death." Dean crossed his arms over his chest and stuck his bottom lip out in a defined pout.

"Okay, okay, I'll get him out of the tree, but I really think you need to unwind a bit. Remember the incident at the mall last Saturday?" Sam let his arms snake around Dean's waist before he rested his giant mitts overtop Dean's distended belly, "You were gonna shoot the Easter Bunny for hoisting Robbie into his lap."

"Don't think for a second I don't remember that, Sam, I'm still pissed at you for taking my gun and hiding it from me. And besides, that bunny was trying to molest my son!" Dean tried to defend his extreme actions.

"He was getting Robbie to sit on his lap! That's what Easter Bunnies do at the mall, Dean."

"Well it's unnatural."

Regardless, you didn't need to pull out a gun on the poor guy; he was only a college student looking for an easy buck in a costume. It's no wonder Bobby had to confiscate your weapons."

Dean weakly pushed at Sam's firm chest and whined, "I was only protecting them. You didn't have to go that far…" Dean looked up at Sam with tired eyes, "I'm just trying to help…"

Sam smiled at Dean with overwhelming fondness, "Yeah, I did. And now it's my turn to help look after you and our little ones." Sam stole a quick kiss as his fingers began to knead into the rough knots in Dean's shoulders, "Let me help you relax, baby."

"Alright ya big sap, fine. Just get our kid out of the tree in one piece before dinner's ready. And get him cleaned up, too! Probably smells like a barn from hanging out with that stupid dog all day…" Dean rolled his eyes and grinned, "Me n' the little miss," Dean rubbed a hand over his stomach, "will be inside with Robbie setting the table." Dean sauntered (more like waddled, but Sam wouldn't be caught dead saying that aloud) back toward the house.

"Be there in a minute, babe." Sam winked before he turned his attention to his playful son that was still sitting in the tree. "Andrew, c'mon, time for dinner."

With a simple nod and smile, the shaggy-haired boy scrambled out of the tree and jumped into Sam's waiting arms.

With his son resting his chin on his shoulder, secure in his hold, Sam started walking back to the house, "Buddy, try to take it easy on Mom, okay? He's got a lot on his plate and needs our help, so we gotta be on our best behavior."

"'S it 'cause of Mary?" Andrew mumbled into his father's plaid shirt.

"Mhmm." Sam nodded in response.

"'Kay."

Just as Sam opened the backdoor to the kitchen, he caught wind of Dean lecturing their youngest son, Robbie, about knife safety.

"Don't run while you're holding those—they're just like scissors!" Dean barked as he grabbed the dinner utensils from the crying three-year-old's hands.

"Woah, woah, what's happening in here?" Sam's eyes went back and forth between Dean and Robbie as he tried to understand the scene unfolding before him.

"I gave him the utensils to set on the table, and he started running with them. Running!" Dean slammed the silverware onto the table, causing both Andrew and Robbie to flinch at the loud clatter, "He could've stabbed his eye out—or worse, he could've slit his own throat! What kind of mother would I be if I let my own kid slit his throat while I'm in the same room?" Sam could tell that while in his frantic state, Dean was very close to hyperventilating.

Sam set Andrew down before he spoke, "Boys, go to the bathroom and wash up for dinner, okay?"  
The brothers nodded quietly as they quickly scampered out of the room.

"Be careful of the water temperature! Use the cold water so you don't burn your hands!" Dean yelled out to the boys in warning before mumbling to himself, "That's just what I need today, a kid with a slit throat, cracked skull, and third degree burns from the bathroom sink."

"Dean, what did I just tell you?" Sam sighed, exasperated.

Dean started pacing the room and reaching for the scattered silverware, "We've gotta hide the utensils. What if Robbie runs with them again and I'm not here to stop him?" Dean shook his head, trying to clear the upsetting thought from his mind, "I know what we can do! We can replace everything with those stupid sporks. Take a trip in to Taco Bell and hoard all of the goddamn plastic sticks they got laid out. That'll keep 'em safe for a week at least."

"Dean, do you even hear yourself right now?" Sam rolled his eyes as he walked over to Dean and calmly gripped the pregnant man's wrist, stopping Dean in his tracks.

"Don't give me that look, Sam, at least I'm trying to keep our kids alive."

"They're not even six yet, Dean! The most dangerous thing they do is play 'it-tag'—I don't think we have to try too hard."

"He was running with a knife, Sam!" Dean snapped, pulling his wrist from Sam's grip.

"Well then don't give him one, Dean!" Sam retorted as he stepped into Dean's space again, "And it was only a butter knife—no reason to have such an extreme reaction. It was an accident. You told him not to do it again, and I'm sure he won't. They're smart kids, Dean."

"Well excuse me for having a hundred different hormones firing through my brain simultaneously; making me forget about what it is I'm supposed to be doing." Dean was on the verge of tears, and Sam could see it in the shake of his shoulders. "I know they're smart kids, Sam, but I can't help but worry. What if they don't listen to me?"

"You're supposed to be taking it easy, Dean. Leave the hard stuff to me and relax. The boys and I understand that you're going through more than you're used to, and we're here to listen to what you have to say. So please, just let us take care of you, baby." Sam pleaded for Dean to listen to what he was saying.

After a moment's hesitation, Dean spoke, "It's just hard, Sam. I want to protect them and give them everything I have to offer just like I gave you. I don't know what to do with myself, it just drives me crazy thinking I could be doing something wrong and screwing them up somehow." Dean's shoulders slumped with exhaustion and he began to tear up.

"Aww, hon, don't do that. You're not going to screw up our kids just because you let them climb trees and set tables. They're smart boys, they'll figure it out." Sam pulled Dean in close to his chest and rubbed his back, "Let us take care of you, Dean."

With a small sniffle and a rub at his eye with a scrunched up fist of napkins, Dean looked up to find not only Sam looking at him, but also his sons that were standing in the doorway. He motioned them closer with a wave of his hand.

Both Andrew and Robbie came over to Dean and hugged themselves close to his legs. Dean looked down at his sons—he couldn't help but think that they looked like two koalas clinging to a tree—and smiled fondly while he wiped away at a stray tear, "Ugh, I'm sorry for all of the waterworks, guys…"

Andrew tugged on Dean's t-shirt and smiled, "'S okay, Mommy, Mary's just makin' you go nuts just like the squirrels in the oak tree I was es-plorin'."

Dean chuckled at his son's description of his pregnancy hormones, "She certainly is a firecracker—she gives me no break!" Dean sat down on the nearby kitchen stool and pulled the boys close to his protruding belly, "Mary doesn't mean to make me crazy, though, it's just an accident."

"Like when I ran with the 'tensils?" Robbie murmured.

"Yeah, baby, just like that. I might act a bit crazy right now, but I need you guys to know that I do it out of love for you, 'kay?"

Both boys looked up at Dean and nodded, "'Kay."

"We're gonna take care of your mom, right, boys?" Sam kneeled between the two children and smiled up at Dean.

"Yup!" Both boys squealed in unison.

Dean smiled at Sam and wiped at the last of his tears, "Thanks, guys. You're gonna spoil me if I don't watch out."

Sam kissed Dean's kneed through his denim jeans, "Only because you deserve it."

Dean laughed along with Sam and their sons as Sam rose to his feet and shuffled to set a stack of paper plates onto the counter.

"How does pizza and a movie sound for tonight?" Sam asked as he shrugged his body in the direction of the living room couch.

"Yeeeaahhh!" The boys yipped and ran into the other room, leaving their parents behind and alone in the kitchen still.

"Sound good, Dean?" Sam asked.

Holding onto the counter edge to help lift him up, Dean winked, "Sounds fantastic."

Sam smiled as he watched Dean waddle up from his seat, "Great, go get the movie ready and I'll get the pizza."

Ten minutes later, Dean was curled up in the center of the couch leaning against Sam's chest while Robbie snuggled in close to his other side. Dean's youngest son was using Dean's baby bump as a pillow for his head while Sam had his hand rubbing soothing circles into the bulge. Andrew was seated in his father's lap, happily eating his second slice of pepperoni pizza with a giant grin on his face as the television lights flickered over his youthful features. They were all together and enjoying each other's company.

Dean sighed with content—he knew that as long as he had such an amazing family, everything would be okay.


End file.
